Illuminated
by Syeira
Summary: Bonnie needed to feel something and gets a lesson from the king of "romancing egos."


**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own TVD or any of the characters, but I DO own my story and my words. Enjoy.

_Time waits for no one,_  
_ So do you want to waste some time,_  
_ Oh, oh tonight?_  
_ Don't be afraid of tomorrow,_  
_ Just take my hand, I'll make it feel so much better tonight._

_ Swing me these sorrows_  
_ And try delusion for a while._  
_ It's such a beautiful lie._  
_ You've got to lose inhibition -_  
_ Romance your ego for a while._  
_ Come on, give it a try._

**~ "Illuminated" by Hurts**

It was still dark out, but Bonnie could see the light creeping over the horizon. She knew too much about vampires to think she could sneak away from the body laying half under her, but she had to try, anyway.

She could feel him, all of him—the smoothness of his chest under her cheek, his large hand splayed across the skin of her lower back, and the one part of him she should never have come in contact with pressing against her knee. Bonnie felt the warmth build behind her eyes and knew the tears were coming. As slowly as she could, she slid her knee away from him and leaned upward, away from his body and the arm holding her. The first tear fell as she reached the edge of the large bed.

Her heart was thudding heavily now as she pulled on her jeans and blouse from the night before. She glanced over her shoulder at the still form before spotting her bra and shoving it into her purse. She started to look for her panties before remembering that they'd been ripped from her. Biting her bottom lip, she crept from the room with as much stealth as she could muster.

Damon Salvatore. She'd slept with _Damon Salvatore._ No, not _slept._ She had _sex_ with Damon Salvatore. Bonnie blinked away anymore tears as she drove towards her house. As much as she wanted to erase the events from last night, she couldn't erase what he made her feel.

She'd always thought Damon was attractive with his sharp, chiseled features, his mop of dark hair, and those eyes—sometimes blue flame, sometimes silver moonlight. The bad boy persona didn't hurt, either, until she realized it was more than persona. Damon was dangerous as any other vampire, and he lashed out to keep from being hurt, from being disappointed. She'd learned that much through his interactions with Elena. But last night, she'd seen much more of Damon, so much that it hurt. Now, as she pulled up to her home, she felt her stomach flutter with the thought that he may have seen a secret part of her, too.

Bonnie had arrived at the Grille, the night before, determined to put everything behind her—Klaus, Elena, her mom, her feelings for Jaime—all of it. She'd celebrated with her friends, took shots to celebrate ending the threats in their lives and to honor Alaric. They'd all come through. But Bonnie left the house, alone, feeling alone. She loved Elena. They'd been friends nearly their entire lives. But there were times when Bonnie wondered how much she'd have to personally sacrifice for their friendship. Her own mother had sacrificed her magic in her friendship with Elena's mother. Would she be forced to do the same, someday?

With all her friends still at Elena's, she could fall into the booth at the Grille without worrying about anyone seeing her. She could have a moment to sort out her feelings. But as she sighed and pushed her hands through her hair, her gaze caught Damon's. She'd figured since Elena was home with her friends that he'd gone back to the boarding house with Stefan after hiding Klaus' body. The corner of his lips turned upward as he lifted his glass toward her in a salute before bringing it to his lips. She tried to pull her own lips into a smile, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She didn't realize that her gesture had been mistaken as an invitation until he hopped off the bar stool and made his way over to her.

Damon had changed since she met him. When he'd first arrived, his obsession with the vampire Katherine consumed him and left Mystic Falls with a trail of bodies. Bonnie wasn't sure what had happened between the two vampires, but he'd gotten over her and turned his affections towards Elena. Again, Damon's obsession had made him reckless. But that was always the place where he and she met. Their love for the same girl empowered them, gave them purpose. When he was fighting just as hard as she was, she understood him.

He placed a glass in front of her filled with whatever he was drinking. She looked at it, then back at him with a raised brow.

"Go on. It's on me. You deserve it."

Bonnie took a tentative sip.

"Besides, I always seem to being owing you, so I might as well start paying you back."

Bonnie smiled at that and swallowed back the rest of the glass. Damon poured from the bottle in his other hand and took a sip from the shared glass.

"So, where's the rest of our merry gang?"

Bonnie took a moment to answer, enjoying the burn of the alcohol as it reached her stomach, and the slightly dizzy feel it gave her after the shots she'd taken, earlier. "Still at Elena's, I guess." Damon looked at her questioningly. "I…" She looked down at her hands. "I just needed to get away for a bit."

Damon lifted a brow. "I can't say I don't feel the same every now and then." He poured more alcohol into the glass and pushed it toward her.

Bonnie held it in her hands for a moment. For whatever reason, she didn't want to bore him, to say nothing. And she sure as hell wasn't about to spill her heart to him. She decided to thank him, instead. She'd meant to but hadn't had the chance until now. "Thanks for having my back with Abby, Damon. It…meant something, especially coming from you."

Damon bit off a chuckle. "No big deal. I know what it's like to have a shitty parent. Besides, it's not like Caroline or Elena was there to do it."

Bonnie looked down. No they weren't. Ever since Tyler broke his sire bond, Caroline had pushed whatever she felt for Klaus to the side and had been busy trying to mend her relationship with him. And Elena… Bonnie sipped the amber liquid from the glass and called out to one of the servers for a basket of soft pretzels.

"How is Abby, anyway?"

Bonnie shrugged. She hadn't seen her mom since she got the information she needed from her. "I guess she's back with Jaime."

Damon pulled the half-finished drink from her hands and finished it off. "That's the step-brother you were making out with, right?"

Bonnie expression was dour. "He isn't my step-brother, Damon. He was her boyfriend's son, or whatever."

Damon grinned. "Whatever you say, Judgey."

Before Bonnie could respond, the pretzels arrived and Damon was pushing the newly filled glass back into her hands. She glanced at the bottle, noticing that it was nearly empty and that she had to focus to read the label.

Why was she sitting here having drinks with Damon? They didn't do this. They didn't converse outside of a mission. Mission: Protect Elena. Operation: Save the Doppelganger. Different plays, same ending. But as she sat there with Damon's intense gaze strictly on her, she wondered if Caroline was right when she said Elena got all the guys.

"You can do better."

Bonnie tried to pull away from dangerous thoughts and scoffed at his comment. Apparently her mouth didn't get the memo, because she heard herself ask, "What? Like you?"

Damon only smirked as he saluted the glass at her, again. "Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it."

Bonnie smiled and reached her hand out for the glass, this time. He gave his unfinished shot to her and she downed it. She'd heard of people searching for things at the bottom of liquor bottles and shot glasses. What was she seeking? Her gaze met Damon's again as he reached forward to push a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Did you drive here?"

"Uh, yeah," she said, realizing she probably couldn't drive back.

"What say, you help me finish of this bottle and I drive you home."

Bonnie glanced at the bottle, which had about a shot left, and reminded herself that this was Damon Salvatore, her once enemy, a man who thought little of killing, whether it was his ally's mother or his love's brother. He was also Damon Salvatore—charming with a devil's smile and a demon eyes all locked on her, the invisible witch. "Okay."

But Bonnie didn't go home. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Bonnie had convinced Damon to let her crash at the boarding house, somewhere that wasn't the solitude of her room, where she didn't have to be alone. In her mind, she'd planned to park her dizzy self on a sofa and sleep it off. But that wasn't what happened.

Bonnie had moved toward the library she was so familiar with. When she turned around to take in the reality of her surroundings, she found an amused Damon standing behind her. He was so close that his eyes seemed to take up all of her view. "Damon…"

"Why are you here, Bonnie?"

Bonnie took a breath. "I'm kind of smashed, Damon. I don't… My dad…"

"No. Try again. Why are you here?"

She blinked, feeling more vulnerable in his presence than she had in a long time.

"You want to feel something, don't you, Bonnie?" He'd asked. And he'd stepped closer to her, as close as he could be without touching her. "I know I do," came his rough whisper.

And she'd watched him, realizing that the answer must have been plain on her face, because the next thing she knew, he was smirking and leaning towards her.

The kiss was like fire. Desire and need flooded her, the torrent rushing forth until she poured it into him. Bonnie was thoughtful, analytical, careful, but none of those traits were working for her, now. Damon pulled her into him by the waist and she lost her connection to time. His lips were soft, warm, and when he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she tasted that sweet burning amber from earlier. She tilted her head a bit more, trying to taste a bit more. And Damon let her. He opened his mouth wider, letting her feed from him until she demanded more.

Bonnie ran her hands down the smooth fabric of his shirt and lifted the hem until she felt skin. Damon pulled her hands away, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted her from the floor. She encircled his waist with her legs and felt the air whip past her as he moved with vampire speed towards his bedroom. He lowered Bonnie to the bed, but she scooted off of it, coming back to her feet and pushing him against a wall.

She just needed something to be hers, and he was letting himself be hers, tonight. Bonnie refused to think about what that meant, what it could mean. All she needed was this. All she needed was a little bit of life that was hers, alone; at least, for tonight. Bonnie pulled back enough to catch Damon's gaze. That intense stare enraptured her. He leaned forward, rubbing his nose along hers before flicking his tongue at her lips. She smiled and returned the gesture until Damon used his tongue to pull her mouth back to his. She tried to unbutton his shirt, but lost train of thought and ripped it open. Damon laughed when he leaned back to pull her camisole over her head. "I like it when you're pushy, Judgey."

Bonnie raised a brow. He lifted her once again and laid her out on the bed, pulling her jeans from her body before she got any ideas. She was barely aware of the way his eyes perused her body, lingering at her lace-covered breasts, her matching panties, the long legs she almost always covered up in jeans, all before returning to meet her eyes. When they dropped to her lips, Bonnie reached up and pulled him to her by the neck, shoving her tongue into his mouth and begging his to play. He didn't disappoint and she reveled in the warmth that pooled between her thighs.

It didn't matter that it was Damon. It didn't matter that it was him that made her feel this way. All that mattered was that she felt. She felt safe, strong, desirable, and the other feelings that she didn't want were absent—the doubt, the fear, the sadness, the frustration. She left them at the Grille, buried them at the bottom of that shot glass. Bonnie felt the tug and release of the fabric covering her nethers fall away. Cool air touched her for but a second, quickly replaced by Damon's equally nude hips. She hadn't even noticed when he'd removed his pants. And she didn't care. She giggled and pulled him closer, anticipating the moment he would join his body to hers, welcoming it.

Now, as she sat in her car, parked in front of her house, she called on her signature traits. What had she done?


End file.
